Hostile Genus: An Epic Military Sci-Fi Series (Invasive Species Book 2) by Ben Stevens (historical books to read TXT) 📕

She was well-endowed, her cleavage prominently displayed by the push-up quality of the top. The look was framed by a red and black plaid vest, buttoned at the top and opening in an upside-down V. She wore a chain similar to the man’s, but with some fine stone-crusted medallion hanging from it. She had long blond hair—Maya could tell it was dyed—which was piled high in two places, bunched up before being tied down by a black and white paisley decorated bandana, tied on the top, near the crown of her head.

Her eyes were heavy with makeup, but the dark complexion of her skin helped to mitigate the raccoon look. Still, Maya wondered how Sofia’s eyelashes didn’t stick together when she blinked. Her natural eyebrows were clean-shaven and replaced with sharp drawn-on curves. A solid black teardrop tattoo adorned her cheek. Paisley water drops, bigger versions of the same image printed on her bandana, ran down the side of her right arm. Her lips were painted a red as deep and dark as the wine, and pencil-outlined in a thin black. Dangerously large hoop earrings dangled from her ears, which bounced as she turned her head to study Maya.

Sofia drank from her wine glass without taking her eyes off Maya, watching her as a bird of prey might watch a vole venture from its den. She pulled the cup away, revealing a drop of wine that lingered on her thick lips. She opened her mouth in an over-exaggerated display of animalistic sexuality to lick the drop from the edge of her mouth.

Maya instantly noticed her teeth—clad in solid gold, with long and large imposing canines, curving slightly and ending in needle tips. When Sofia’s eyes flashed bright red for a single absent heartbeat, Maya knew that the display wasn’t simply a queen hen displaying her sexuality, but that Maya was meant to see the teeth, meant to see the eyes and the demonic power behind them. She was meant to be scared, or captivated, or both.

“Yes, lover. I wonder if she is as hungry as I am,” Sofia said, her voice dripping with cruel humor. Maya knew well what Sofia was, and what she was hungry for. The man pulled his drooped leg back from over the armrest and stood, extending his goblet out in toast-like gesture.

“Please. Although it is unforgivably tardy, allow me to personally welcome you to New Puebla, Señorita Sapphire. I am Don Luis Fernando, the father of this city, and this is my wife, Sofia.”

Maya closed the distance and stopped just short of the corner, now standing opposite the table from Sofia. She curtsied and thanked him.

“I accept your welcome most happily, Señor Fernando. Thank you.”

“Please, call me Don Luis.”

Maya could feel Sofia’s eyes burning holes in her, but pretended not to notice.

“We would be so very happy if the famous singer Lily Sapphire joined us for dinner. Wouldn’t we, dear?” Don Luis said as he placed his goblet on the table and walked over to the chair closest to Maya, pulling it out from the table.

“Delighted,” Sofia retorted.

Maya ignored the tone and smiled as she sat down in the chair she was offered.

“Thank you, Don Luis.” Then she added, “Sofia” with a polite nod.

“Care for a drink?” Sofia inquired and played her extraordinarily long nails around the rim of her wine glass. Maya’s eyes were drawn to the vessel and now, being much closer, she was able to see and then realize with certainty that it was not wine they were drinking. She swallowed involuntarily, her nerves beginning to rattle. It was also then that she realized that she had forgotten to put her radio necklace back on after the bath.

Oh dear. And Lucy is not here either. She knew that things were not going as planned, that she had possibly bitten off more than she could chew. There was nothing to do now but continue the charade and hope that something good would come from all this, hopefully with no one near and dear to her getting hurt in the process—including herself.

“Water, please,” she squeaked out.

Then Don Luis reached his hand up and snapped his fingers.

“Of course, Señorita.” A female figure, until now unseen in the shadows of the dining hall’s arches, came forward with a decorated vase. The servant girl filled the empty glass at Maya’s setting, and Maya noticed the same plastic square embedded in her arm as the girls who had bathed and dressed her.

Maya realized that her eyes were lingering too long. She snapped her gaze back up straight into the curious and watchful eyes of Don Luis, who had resumed his seat. She knew she had been caught, and her cheeks burned. Her host looked to his goblet and picked it back up, taking a sip from it. He placed it back down, licking his lips, and then let out a satisfied sigh.

“Something tells me you are aware of what we are. And yet, you came, not only to our city, but to this table, willingly.” Don Luis studied Maya for a tell. Behind her, the servant girl returned with a plate of delicacies—fruit, cheese, and the like—for Maya to dine on.

“I am familiar with your kind. I encountered several out in the desert on my way here.” Maya steadied herself against the faintness she was feeling, as well as against her heart, which was pounding in her chest, threatening to cause her hands to shake.

“Are you now? Did you now?” Don Luis seemed cruelly amused. “And just what is my ‘kind’?” He sipped again from his goblet. Sofia scoffed and rolled her heavily made-up eyes.

“I know that’s not wine in your cups, Señor Fernando,” Maya said coyly and plucked a ripe strawberry from her plate.

“I told you, call me Don Luis.” He smiled at Maya’s boldness. “But you must understand, Señorita Sapphire, we are not monsters. We are not like